Smoking Gun Moltisanti
by FlowerofAdversity
Summary: A tale of how CJ recieved his nickname and of a woman, a neighbor named Sherry who has been decieving him all along just to get him alone and sleep with him.


Smoking Gun Moltisanti

Note: A Sopranos fan-fic of how CJ received his nickname "Smoking Gun" and how his tough guy image scares those who only know him by that moniker alone. An admirer comes a bit too close for comfort and he has to have reinforcements deal with her accordingly. CJ would never kill a woman, but will this woman, Sherry, cross that barrier ?

"A man's best friends are his dog, his beer, and his gun."—Unknown

"I don't play for keeps, I play for blood. I don't play to win, I play for blood."—Megadeth, Play For Blood

"Keep a memory of me. Not as a king or a hero, but as a man, fallible and flawed."—Beowulf

Chapter 1—Tests of Prowess

I had not always been known by my current name. Once a man is "made" he is usually deemed a nickname, particularly if his own colleagues respect him. Sometimes that respect comes out of fear that he might destroy everything within his path. For me, when I was that young and had no direction or discipline over my life, it took a bit of slapping me around and kicking my ass to let me know I needed to respect my elders. Like my pa before me, at first, I didn't see eye-to-eye with Uncle Paulie. Uncle Paulie had always been my closest friend and he had become my godfather as I learned what it took being born into the shadows. I never really wanted anything to do with it since I didn't understand it. But, Uncle Tony wanted to "pay his debt" to me. At that time, I had no f#$ing idea what Tony had meant by that. Now in my young age of 35, going on 36 (but feeling like a fresh 25 year old), I finally get what Ton' meant. I don't hold anything against Tony and I see his son like one of my own, and a brother near and dear to my heart. Anyway, back to my story.

I was running on coffee, marijuana and caffeine most of the time. I was only 18 and Rosetta was already out of the house. Though I was higher than a f#$ing feather half the time, I did my best to make sure mom wasn't being taken advantage of by smooth talking men. She hadn't met Rico yet, and I did my best to keep myself out of trouble. Trouble always had a way of finding me though. It was at this time that Paulie whipped me into shape, literally. He weaned me slowly off of marijuana and taught me how to defend myself. Uncle Furio then came to teach me how to shoot properly. At first I couldn't shoot worth shit. Furio told me I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, and even though I lost my temper constantly, his approach, unlike Paulie's was gentle, refined and patient. Before long, I became a marksman and he was so impressed he called me "Smoking Gun" out of the blue. The name stuck, but I still had to prove myself.

There were "troubles" around town with some guys that hadn't paid their debt and thought they could be redeemed even though they had close guys to Tony. I can tell you one thing about living in the underground. Just because some shmuck thinks he's endeared himself to the boss doesn't mean he's within his good graces. Money is money after all. My objective was to deal with him as quickly as possible by any means necessary. It was the first time I would ever kill, and not my last.

I remember it almost like it was yesterday. I was on my way to becoming sober and I had been sent out with Uncle Silvio to take care of Mr. Zahan. I hated having to plug him because he happened to be a family guy, a simple cab driver, not wantin' no trouble from no one. But I was an enforcer. I do what the boss tells me to and do my best to please him, and hope he doesn't cap my ass in response.

Zahan was driving a piece of shit car around the bowery and the boys and I were out in a sleek Cadillac. I had my favorite gun with me, a Beretta. Her name, oddly, was Grace. Grace has been by my side since training and she has never let me down. I noticed Zahan was letting his last customer out for the day and Sil let me out of the car. It was slightly chilly, so I was in a track suit, keeping warm.

"Can I help you ?", the Hungarian said in a thick accent.

"Yeah, you can help me.", I said, cocking the Beretta and holding it to his temple. The cabbie began to sob uncontrollably, which made me have second feelings at the time.

"What ! What is the meaning of this ? Why you put gun to my head ?", he wailed, unable to even speak correctly. Hard understanding the poor bastard, he was blubbering so loudly.

"You didn't pay your fee…Mr. Soprano doesn't like that. Your grace period is expired, Mr. Zahan.", I said, and without even blinking, I shot the man dead. I stood there, blood splashed on my face, transfixed. Those unblinking eyes fixated upon me, asking me…"Why ?" I had no answer, and I felt as if the blood tainted me. Sil came up to me, noticing I was unable to move.

"Smoking Gun, we gotta go ! Come on, don't just stand there like a f#$ing statue, move it !", Sil barked through his teeth as he grabbed Zahan's body as if it weighed nothing. He picked up the Hungarian's feet and I moved him by his arms. Easily, the body was tossed in the trunk and we found a discreet place where no one would find him. After that, he took me back to The Bing to celebrate.

"You're almost part of the crew. All you have to do is undergo the ritual and you'll be one of us.", Sil said, patting my shoulder. At the time, it was all too much for me to process and I couldn't even think straight when I met Vanilla (my so-called "goomar") and her 'sister' Creamy. All of these thoughts slipped past in my reverie and I could still feel the pin prick on my thumb from that night. Blood for blood, and yet now I felt nothing for those I killed. I suppose in a sense I had become less caring and more compliant. But things were different now, I was a Capo. I called the shots, and many feared the moniker "Smoking Gun". Just the way I liked things.

Chapter 2—Sherry Baby

Living on an island provides many people with the opportunity to meet interesting, unique and sometimes, whacked-out people. Our next door neighbor, Sherry Blakenstaff has always been one who went out of her way if we needed something. Granted, she speaks a kind of French dialect which I know better than Tanya does, so I can communicate much easier with her than she can. The kids simply adore her and consider her a second grandmother. But what I didn't realize was Sherry couldn't be trusted. I had never noticed until she had started becoming friendlier that I began to sense that she was more interested in my friendship.

I felt as if a 10-ton-rock had hit me in the skull. I couldn't believe I had been so naïve and blind to not see that Sherry had been coming onto me since the day I had met her. But when I found she had snuck into my house while Tanya and the kids were gone, I regretted not going with them.

There she was, barely wearing anything, trying her best to get me aroused. I was already pissed that she had caught me off guard. I should've been more careful. I almost reached for my gun to show her I meant business but she became hotter once she saw I was packing.

"I find men with extra equipment sexy.", she purred in my ear, caressing my chest. I couldn't help hiding my passion from her, since the touch of a woman was all I needed to get my motor running. I tried pulling away, but she yanked me closer, kissing me passionately on the lips.

"Sherry, stop ! I'm a married man. Don't do this !", I said, pushing her away as gently as I could. I never raised my hand to anyone, and I wasn't angered, just, confused and swimming in emotions I thought I would never encounter in my lifetime.

"I can't. I have been watching you since you arrived here. I want you Christopher. More than you can ever imagine.", Sherry said, forcing me into a corner and unzipping my pants. I swallowed hard as she tried to get my pants off of me and I pinned her to the ground.

"I don't care about that, Sherry. Stay away from me. I'm warning you. I'm usually a gentleman around the fairer sex, but if you ever put your trampy claws on me again, I might come to extreme measures.", I warned, pointing the gun at her heart. She brought the gun close to her lips and kissed it tenderly, even provocatively.

"Oh, I wish you would simply shoot me and get it over with. _Bang_ ! Done. It's not hard, cherie.", she said as I pushed her out the door and locked it. Somehow I felt that the little nymph would be back, but this time, I would have someone to deal with her.

Chapter 3—Sil's Charm

That night when my girl, my little lamb and my little lion were asleep, I made a call to Mr. Dante himself.

"What the f#$ are you doing calling me at this hour ?", he asked, clearly upset. I told him to calm down, since I had a real issue.

"I see that you're a smoking gun in more ways than one.", he teased.

"Ha ha, very amusing, Leno.", I teased in response.

"So, what do you want me to do ?", Sil asked, willing to go out on a limb to make sure I was pleased, and preferably, safe and sane.

"I want you to take care of her.", I said, seriously.

"Consider it done, boss.", Sil responded, and the receiver went dead. I shut off my cell, shuffled my feet and trudged back to bed. My muscles ached from painting the shed I had been working on the entire day before. Damned thing wasn't ready yet, but it was a gift for my babies. As soon as their birthday came around, they'd have someplace to play, as if our house wasn't playground enough.

Sil came and was welcomed easily by my wife and kids. They knew Sil as "Uncle Sil" and fawned all over him. Sil absolutely loved the little rascals. I had never known him to be the fatherly type, but I still had much to learn it seemed. He went outside to play a game of catch with them, and looking out the window I could see Sherry spying on us. I nearly swore, but watched my tongue since Tanya was in the same room with me. For some reason, she had come to my side and wrapped her arms around me. Whatever rage I had was long since gone and I felt myself drifting in the warmth of her love. Still I wondered what Sil had in mind for the future and why he was coming inside so early with Giovanni and Anya.

"I was thinkin', Tanya, you and the kids could go out for a while. Chrissy, youse can stay here, I'll wait in the closet.", Sil said. It was like an adult game of hide and seek. Tanya raised her eyebrow at him, thinking he was insane.

"Sure, if you two wish to have some bonding time together, I won't hold that against you.", she said, with a smile. She left quickly with the kids and he went to hide in the closet. I opened my curtains and then saw Sherry there, still gazing at me. She waited until the car left and made a mad dash for the garage door, sliding underneath it. I soon heard the doorknob twist and Sherry came at me, eyes full of lust. I could practically taste the pheromones rolling off her until Sil burst out of the closet.

Sherry nearly peed in her pants from Sil barging in like that.

"Shit ! I didn't know you had company…If I had known…", she stammered until Sil helped her from falling. Her knees had buckled from the scare, but Sil had straightened her out quite a bit.

"It's ok, doll. Don't worry 'bout it. You and I, we have to do a little talkin'. Come with me, sugar.", he said. Sil was such a smooth talker. He could talk anyone into doing anything and they wouldn't give it a second thought. It's a pity he does what he does, or he could've been an attorney, a car salesman or a government man. The lady soon went on a little trip with Sil, and where those two went I will never know.

Chapter 4—Amour Fou

In an email from I had gotten word of Sil's exploits with Sherry. Turns out he fell in _love _with the dame and couldn't quite do what I had asked him to. I couldn't blame him for it. If I had been in his shoes, I doubt I could've either. He explained how remorseful he had been and even demanded I would have him capped for failing me. I laughed out loud at that. I wasn't that strict…Some guys in the business were, but not yours' truly. Since my anger management classes I had quieted down and become a bit "tamer" if you will. I was glad simply to have Sherry out of my life. All I hoped for was that she made Sil happy, and it seemed that she did. In fact, he invited me to the wedding, which I later attended. It seemed that Sil was enough man for Sherry's satisfaction and I no longer had to worry, or cradle my Beretta at night fearing the horny housewife. Sil had his hands full though…Sherry, accordin' to him, wanted to have sex with him _every night_. Madon' some women only want it once a freakin' week. I wasn't saying I was jealous of him or nuttin', but still, I was happy for Sil, cuz, well, he needed to have happiness in his shitty life.

Things have become as "normal" as they can be within the realm of possibilities that can happen. One term I hear quite a bit is "stranger than fiction", which bizarrely enough is true. Even though I tend to look over my shoulder a bit more often than the average person would, I admit that I am a blessed man. I have what some men could only dream of, and that fact in and of itself is enough to get me through the day, even if I should die tomorrow.

From the journals of Christopher Moltisanti, Jr. AKA Smoking Gun

Whereabouts: unknown

Living or dead: Unknown

Bounty: Billions, dead or alive

Possible accomplices: Unknown


End file.
